


A Lion in the Moonlight

by hollyblacklannister



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblacklannister/pseuds/hollyblacklannister
Summary: After the defeat of the Night's King and the White Walkers, the Kingslayer faces the judgement of a new king and queen.





	1. Prologue

The moment the Evenstar received word from his daughter to come to King’s Landing, he packed his things and left. He’d been waiting to hear from her so long, he would have crossed the planet for just a glimpse.

 

But to hear that she was alive, well, and on the winning side brought him so much hope. Her letter told of lengthy battles against both the dead and the living, of right versus wrong. Most of the old monarchy had died; with the few left previously unaware of their origins.

 

The warring queens were both slain, each by a lover. After her defeat of the Night’s King, Daenerys Stormborn descended into her father’s madness. One of her remaining dragons had been lost warring the White Walkers. Seeking retribution, she vowed to burn the whole of the North before being cut down by her nephew, and now King, Jon Snow.

 

The final battle of King’s Landing came later. Queen Cersei was just as mad as her competitor; crying out for the deaths of thousands of innocents. Her twin brother had gone to reason with her, but in his despair at her destruction and hatred, shoved a dagger through the belly he believed housed his child. Selwyn’s daughter had incarcerated him shortly afterward, when he meant to take the same blade to his own throat.

 

That was what brought Selwyn to King’s Landing on this day. To formally conclude the havoc of the previous wars, a ceremonial trial was being held for the Kingslayer, now Queenslayer, Jaime Lannister. The lords of the realm were called upon to swear fealty to King Jon Snow, born Aegon Targaryen.

 

While a legitimate Targaryen ruler, the new king wanted to end the ugly legacy his ancestors had left behind and start something simpler. Therefore, he kept his bastard name as he sat upon the throne, the last dragon guarding his keep.

 

Brienne’s words, although comforting, also brought a shade of concern. She seemed convinced of the Kingslayer’s imminent death, and feared it greatly. Despite all his dishonor, she had built respect for him and cared for his welfare. Though it made no difference to Selwyn at all, he wanted his only surviving child to be happy and well.

 

Sailing into the ports of King’s Landing, he had hoped to see her tawny hair a head above the other onlookers, but she was nowhere to be found. His small delegation was accepted and escorted to their respective chambers. Selwyn worried all the more that the daughter who loved him and had not seen him in years was not there to greet him.

 

She must have been troubled indeed.


	2. Audiences

“I will not let you die, Ser Jaime,” she’d told him as he cradled his sister’s corpse in the throne room. It was easy to get the knife away from him; he was so distraught. Jaime had told her of the babe. Its existence had both shamed and excited him. Finding out that no such child had ever existed broke his heart. Hearing that his beloved was intent on destroying all that he’d worked so hard to save ended him. 

 

It needed to happen, but that didn’t stop his despair. She’d protected him night and day; mostly from himself, until he regained some of his senses. When King Jon made his way down to King’s Landing, he understood her quest and allowed him to be imprisoned in private quarters without access to tinctures or weaponry. It still took weeks before he resembled himself again.

 

Before her father arrived, Brienne had spent hours pleading to spare the Kingslayer’s life. “He is an honorable man,” she’d said. “While you may not see it, his decisions have spared thousands upon thousands of lives.”

 

“He killed a king, my Lady,” the new king replied. “Stabbed him while his back was turned. He maimed my brother. He may have saved lives, but he has intentionally ruined countless others.”

 

“He returned to fight the enemy in the North when our need was greatest. When circumstances are dire, he has always done the right thing,” she argued. But it seemed to be of little use. The king and his consort dismissed her. 

 

Queen Sansa looked sympathetically into her former protector’s eyes.

 

“Please, your Grace, just think about it,” Brienne begged, bowing out of the room.

 

“She loves him, Jon,” the queen whispered to the man she once saw as her brother. “He has been punished enough.”

 

“I know that he has done good things, but with all the evil he has done, I cannot let him live on here.” Jon replied. 

 

“Brienne will never let him do such a thing again,” Sansa responded. “She has more honor than all of us together. You can trust her, Jon.”

 

\---

 

By the time she could think seek out her father, Brienne was tired and run nearly ragged. Watching over Jaime had been less of an ordeal the past few weeks, but begging for his survival quickly drained any spare energy.

 

After her audience with King Snow, Brienne trudged hopelessly back to her chambers. His fate was to be decided on the morrow, and there was little she could do. All that was left was to pray to the gods for his deliverance. And she wasn’t so sure she believed in them anymore.

 

Opening the heavy door to her chamber, she was surprised to a small fire lit in her hearth, and a giant, hulking figure sitting before it.

 

“I didn’t think I’d have to seek you out, daughter.” The large man said.

 

“Papa…” Brienne nearly fell to her knees in relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t know of his presence  in the capital, but she got caught up with everything else. 

 

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks in her telltale blush, but Selwyn’s eyes warmed upon seeing his only surviving daughter, healthy and safe. Slamming the door, she ran to him and collapsed in his arms.

 

“I’m so sorry, Papa, I meant to come see you, I really did…” She spoke through tears.

 

Selwyn held onto her as though she were a precious jewel, then pulled her back to look into her eyes. “No matter, sweet child,” he said, tucking her chin. “I found you. As I always will.”

 

Tears rimmed her sapphire eyes; eyes she’d inherited from the man sitting before her.

 

“I’ve missed you, Papa,” she wept quietly.

 

“I know, sweetling.” He could see the bruises and scars on her face from fighting. Damage had just began to heal upon her cheek. 

 

“But I had to try and save him.” Her tears began to fall in earnest.

 

“I know you never would have never hurt Renly,” Selwyn soothed.

 

“Not Renly, Papa. Jaime- the Kingslayer,” She corrected herself.

 

Confusion clouded the man’s eyes as he held tight to his daughter. While he was quite aware of her affection for the late King Renly Baratheon, he’d never seen her so dedicated to a man. Any man, himself included. 

 

“They’re going to kill him, I know it.” Brienne sobbed, now finally in a safe embrace. “And he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

 

He held her long into the night, soothing her into the first real sleep she’d had in weeks. And for the first time in a long while, he prayed.


	3. Chambers

Jaime knew that he had earned this. Probably deserved even greater punishment, he reflected alone in his cell. 

 

Was this the place Ned Stark accepted his fate? Jaime had wondered. He was like to die tomorrow, he knew; beheaded by the new king.

 

And to be honest, he’d been waiting for this moment for years upon years. It was what a bad man like him deserved. His only regret was that he’d hurt the wench so badly. His wench. Their mutual affection and care had grown over the years. In a different world, it could have ended so much better.

 

But that was not his luck. Out of many terrible options, he had chosen the one to do the least damage, even if it damned him.

 

Yet the wench would survive. She would be the Evenstar, and her strength would be crucial in rebuilding the realm. Her contributions would be fair and just; like the lady knight she’d become.

A soft rustle and click interrupted his stewing.  _ Gods, let it be the wench _ , he prayed. He’d not seen her in a few days.

 

But no, this figure was much smaller than the woman he’d grown to trust. Flames from the torch illuminated the face of his new king.

 

“Your Grace,” he nodded out of respect. There was really no point in bowing and groveling now, death imminent.

 

“Kingslayer,” acknowledged the King, standing a respectable distance away.

 

“You may approach. I’ve no intent of killing you, despite what the White Book might say,” quipped Jaime.

 

Without taking another step, the king interjected: “Lady Brienne has been pleading for you.”

 

_ Such a saucy wench, _ he thought. “And for what does she plead?”

 

“Your life, Kingslayer.”

 

“Ah, that. Tell her she can have it for all the good it’s done me,” quipped the defeated knight.

 

“She says you are a good man. An honorable man. Is she right?”

 

Jaime mused a moment, then quirked his lips. “No,” he said.

 

“I think you were once,” Jon replied. “Back when I first met you. You were strange, but there was an odd logic to you. And a bit of charm. I’d hoped to be half as good as you.”

 

Jaime lifted his maimed hand. “Looks like you’ve got what you wanted.”

 

“You killed your king. You crippled my brother. You slaughtered your own sister--”

 

“And it was the right thing to do,” Jaime paused, then reflected. “I am sorry about your brother though. He didn’t deserve that.”

 

“No he didn’t,” the king paused, then knelt beside his prisoner. “She loves you.”

 

“She doesn’t,” replied Jaime. “She has no reason to love me. Nor should she, with the things I’ve done.”

 

“She thinks you deserve to live.”

 

“Much as I’d like that, she is unequivocally wrong.” Jaime snorted to himself. 

 

His king rose from his perch, looking as though he’d decided something. “You’d better get your rest, Kingslayer.”

 

“I don’t know that I’ll ever rest again,” Jaime replied from his cold spot on the floor.

 

“Just prepare yourself. You’re like to die tomorrow,” Jon began to sweep out of the tiny room.

 

“I look forward to it,” Jaime replied, darkly.

  
  



	4. Mornings

Brienne and Jaime woke the following morning in their separate chambers; each with a differing sense of dread. 

Dreading Jaime’s probable fate, Brienne dressed herself in the freshly-polished blue armor he’d once gifted. Much as she liked and respected the new King and Queen, she was prepared do do anything to spare Jaime’s life. Looking her most intimidating could only help matters.

Jaime was dragged out of the dungeons far too early for his liking. If he were going to die, he could at least be allowed to sleep in a bit. There was little for him to do in preparation, as most of his things had been confiscated prior to his incarceration. A small meal and some water were provided for him to refresh himself before he was dragged before the crowd.

Citizens jeered when the Kingslayer was brought in. The political uncertainty of the past generation had manifested in a need to blame someone. Whether he deserved it or not, Jaime had been their chosen scapegoat.

His eyes briefly met hers from across the room. She looked majestic and imposing in her armor, and it brought a smile to his lips that she’d worn it. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth it. To just let him die in peace as he’d been begging to do for months. But he knew her stubbornness, and try as he might, she would never listen to reason. 

As Jaime was brought before the King and Queen, he tried to set Brienne’s kind gaze apart from the others. He wanted to remember her this way; strong, honorable, caring. To know that someone cared for him unconditionally was something he wanted to take to his grave, no matter what his end might be.

King Jon cleared his throat in a call to silence. “Ser Jaime Lannister, former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, do you know why you have been brought here?”

As he was like to die at any moment, there was no point in masking his usual sarcasm. “No idea. Perhaps you could enlighten me, your Grace?”

Jon gave a little sigh. “You are called the Kingslayer, are you not?”   


“Always hated that name,” Jaime muttered. “I have no bearing on what people call me, your Grace.”

“But you did earn the moniker. You slew King Aerys, did you not?”

“Stabbed him in the back while he was ranting and wailing, your Grace. Not far from where you stand now.” A hush gathered over the room at his nonchalance.

“You are aware of the punishment for killing a king?” the new king asked.

“Some kind of death, isn’t it? Drawing and quartering? Hanging? Beheading? They all end the same way, so lets get on with it,” Jaime goaded.

“Is there anyone who would be willing to come to your defense in any way, Kingslayer?” Even though Jon had known the Kingslayer personally, as King, he had to remain somewhat impartial and aware of the feelings within the realm. He knew his grandfather was mad, and the man standing before him had saved millions of lives, but could not speak on it.

The familiar metallic clink of armor indicated someone stepping forward. “I will speak to his defense, your Grace.” Brienne. Stupid wench. Throwing away her life for someone who would not return the favor. 

As she knelt, Brienne could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She was never one for public speaking, but she could not let this man be condemned without doing something. Standing, she spoke: “I am Lady Brienne of Tarth. I journeyed with Ser Jaime across the Riverlands while in service to Catelyn Stark,” she paused. “And I know him to be a good man.”

“How so?” questioned the king.

“He saved me. And I him. Many times. He lied to save my virtue. It was for me that he lost his hand. I kept him alive as he was tortured and mutilated, and in return, he delivered me home - intact, and promised to help save Queen Sansa, even against the wishes of his own family.”

“What would you have me do with him, Lady Brienne?” the king asked.

“I do not know, your Grace. All I do know is such a man does not deserve to die. Every person in this room owes their life to him in one way or another, whether they know it or not.”

Jaime allowed himself a little sneer. How dare the wench reveal any goodness hidden deep within him? 

“She speaks too highly of me, Your Grace. I know not why,” barbed Jaime. Gods, if he could just ensure her safety, he could die a happy man. But she would not make it easy.

“Please step forward, Lady Brienne,” Jon demanded.

Cheeks ablaze, she stood between Jaime and her King. 


	5. Knights

“It is serendipitous of you to come to the Kingslayer’s defence, Lady Brienne,” spoke King Jon. “I’ve afforded you a special honor.”

Brienne did not know King Jon well, but she did know that he was not a cruel man. Whatever his plans, Lady Sansa’s husband would not harm her. 

“I have fought beside Lady Brienne. She is a great warrior, and deserving of recognition. Without her, your queen would be dead. We all owe her a great debt.” He nodded to her, and she felt herself turn even redder. “Kneel Lady Brienne.”

Kneeling again, she wanted to object to being called a lady, but she sensed him approaching her. While she did not know what he had planned, she felt an overwhelming sense of completion as he drew Longclaw from its sheath.

“For hundreds of years, the realm has been protected by a great many men. And the greatest among them earn the title of knighthood. These men have been joined by women on occasion. And none so great as the woman who kneels before me. She has repeatedly risked her life to protect the weak and innocent. She has fought fairly and honorably. And most importantly, she has protected the realm. I do not know what this woman would not sacrifice,” he paused. “Therefore, as your king, I would name her a knight of the realm. She will be our first Lady Knight, and hopefully not the last.”

As applause rung throughout the hall, she snuck a glance upward. “I’m sure you know the oaths by heart, Lady Brienne.”

This time, she was not so upset about her title. “I do, your grace,” she smiled through tears. 

Queen Sansa approached as well, a smile lighting her face. “As far as I’m concerned, you became a knight long ago.” 

Despite her best efforts, a tear of joy streaked down Brienne’s face: “Thank you your grace.” 

As they exchanged oaths, Brienne couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for her future. And why they were doing this in the midst of the Kingslayer’s trial. 

Once she was standing again, King Jon turned his attention to Jaime, who was looking at Brienne with a mixture of pride and genuine affection.

“Kingslayer, I’m sure your side of the story is vastly different, but is she correct that you travelled across the Riverlands?”

“Yes, your Grace,” Jaime replied. 

“Excellent. I wanted to publicly establish the foundation of your relationship before thinking on this any further.” 

Both Brienne and Jaime watched closely as the king once again sat upon his throne.

“Given the crimes you have committed, Kingslayer, I should have you executed,” he stated flatly. Brienne’s breath caught in her throat. “But looking upon your other actions, and the way this woman describes you, I feel there is a fate better suited to you.”   


“And what is that, your Grace?” asked Jaime.

“You will spend the rest of your days in exile, relinquishing all lands and titles. You will serve the realm by aiding my trusted advisors from a remote location,” he paused. “You will also be appointed a guardian to see to your wellbeing and ensure your loyalty.”

Brienne visibly relaxed. This was better than she could have hoped. Her best guess at his punishment was service to the Night’s Watch, but it seems the king had something else in mind.

“The only remaining question is where you will live out your exile. Given your friendship with our newest knight, I suspect Tarth might be willing to play host to the Kingslayer,” Jon looked to Brienne’s father, then Brienne herself.

“Yes, your Grace. We would be honored to serve you in any capacity,” said Brienne after a glance for her father’s permission.

“Excellent. I suggest we make this arrangement even more official. We could all use a celebration after what we’ve gone through. A wedding should suffice.”

“What?” sputtered Brienne, looking wildly throughout the hall.

“You both demonstrate a clear affection for one another. One might even call it love,” the king paused pointedly. “The best way to have Jaime serve the realm is by your side. You are the heir to Tarth. Under my rule, you stand to control all of the Stormlands. You will need someone with experience in politics as consort.”

He continued, smiling: “I expect you to produce many children to aide in the realm’s recovery.” Brienne’s blush intensified. “Do you consent?”   


Brienne was surprised when Jaime uttered a clear “Yes.” All she could do was nod.

“You will be married in a fortnight, where the great Sept once stood. Three days later, you will return to Tarth, where Jaime will live out the rest of his days unless specifically invited to the mainland by myself or my queen.” He and Sansa smiled at each other.

“Is this understood?” Jaime nodded his approval, while Brienne could at most sputter in confusion. “Let the preparations begin.”


	6. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi Friends!
> 
> Though I've been on AO3 for about a year now, it occurs to me that I probably haven't been using it to the fullest. I'm mostly a reader, not a writer, but y'all seem to be a really welcoming community, and I'd like to improve my writing. 
> 
> I'd love to get in touch with y'all and become more involved. I'm still not sure how AO3 works, and I'm hoping some of you would be willing to educate me and maybe chat about ideas?
> 
> I don't think AO3 has a private messaging feature yet, but if you're interested in the above my email is: thisisapseud@yahoo.com
> 
> Hope you enjoy this (kinda short) chapter!

Upon being escorted back to her chambers to begin the necessary primping, Brienne could hardly believe what was happening.

She knew she loved Jaime. From the moment Cersei observed it, there was little Brienne could do to hide it. Apparently it was even more obvious than she thought. Marrying him should have been a dream come true, but she felt like a pawn.

Before she could collect herself, a small army of maids had congregated around her. Normally, Brienne would have pummeled anyone trying to undress her, but she was stripped down to her smallclothes in seconds.

Sansa entered the room with a strange smile on her face. Seeing her sworn sword half naked and measured for a wedding gown was amusing. It had been her idea to pair the two together, and though she would miss Brienne, this would provide her some happiness while simultaneously serving the realm.

“Don’t look so terrified, Brienne,” Sansa chuckled.

“But, your Grace, I have no idea how to be--” Brienne was swathed in ivory damask, and looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“No one expects you to be a typical highborn lady, Brienne. Jaime, least of all. In fact, Jon and I are counting upon it. The realm needs strong women like yourself.” Sansa sat upon a tuffet.

“Begging your pardon, your Grace, but I do not believe I can marry someone who doesn’t love me,” Brienne looked down on the chaos at her feet. “And Ser Jaime could not love someone like me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” reasoned Sansa. “He was more than willing to agree to the proposition.”

“To save himself from a miserable death, not that I blame him,” the commotion surrounding her potential dress settled. “I would have done the same.”

“Look at me, Lady Brienne,” commanded the queen. Brienne found a spark of warmth behind her eyes. “You do not see the way he looks at you. The way he cares for you.” She paused. “From what I hear, he jumped, unarmed, before a bear to save your life. Am I correct?”

Brienne nodded.

“Such an act can only be done out of love. And if your knight is as honorable as you say he is, he would never wed someone without loving them first. Your mutual love is the most obvious thing I’ve ever seen,” Sansa smiled and smoothed her skirt. “Do you understand, Brienne?”

The maids had begun to pack up, having taken stock of what they would need to rush this dress.

“I think so, your Grace,” Brienne nodded and stepped down, trying to hide her state of undress. “But I wish I could hear it from him before going through with it.”

Sansa frowned. “You’re generally to be kept apart before the ceremony, as he is a prisoner until you wed him,” she paused. “But I’ll see what I can do.”


	7. Agreements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hectic week, and the next couple are also going to be a little overbooked. But thank goodness I write a few weeks ahead! I just need to keep writing...

That evening, Brienne was tasked with bringing Jaime his supper. He had been relocated to nicer quarters, per his approaching nuptials, but was still heavily guarded. Much as she’d hoped for complete privacy, Brienne would tolerate the distant spectators.

Upon setting down the tray and shutting the door, Brienne was startled to find Jaime smiling smugly at her from his chair.

“My lady wife,” he said, eyes beaming. Brienne swallowed hard. This was not what she had been expecting.

“I am not yet your wife, Ser Jaime,” she blushed, taking the empty seat at his table.

“And I am no longer a ‘Ser,’ as you call me, but we can do away with some of the formality,” Jaime replied, looking ever more like a god.

Brienne finally allowed herself a good look at her future husband. “I am… quite surprised by this turn of events.”

“I’m not,” the Kingslayer replied. “I had always thought to woo you in the extremely unlikely event we were both to survive. I am quite pleased it has come to pass.” His eyes shone with a strange lightness Brienne had not seen from him in years. His smile was bright and shining, all that a knight’s smile should be. But today, she was the knight, and he the layman.

Brienne swallowed hard. “You’d meant to woo me?”

Jaime stood and approached her, slowly. “Of course, wench. Did you think I’d just abandon you?”

“No,” she replied nervously. “But to wed me?”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it, wench?” His good hand reached out to touch her cheek. “I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

Brienne blushed a deep red. “I had never thought…”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jaime replied, kneeling. “But now that we can, will you have me?” he asked. “Can you love me, Brienne?”

“Jaime…” Not knowing what to say, Brienne looked into his eyes. She’d always had some trouble reading him, but he was sincere. Taking his hand between hers, she stroked it with her thumbs as if it were a precious treasure. “I’ll be more than happy to wed you, Ser Jaime.”

The corners of his mouth curled upward into a brilliant smile. “Less than a fortnight away, my lady.”


	8. Father

Brienne had never thought she would see this day, much less come to it willingly. Aside from their one meeting, she and Jaime were kept apart. Not that it was difficult. With all the wedding preparations, plans for their return to Tarth, and questions from her father, Brienne was kept extremely busy. 

But here she was, sitting alone in her chamber on the last night before her wedding. The rest of the palace was still abuzz with activity. Everyone was anxious for a celebration now that the war had officially ended. Sansa had ushered Brienne from the great hall. The older woman’s anxiety was palpable, and dampened everyone’s mood. 

What Brienne really needed was to be by herself for a few moments. This was the last night she would sleep alone for quite some time. Her whole life, this was what everyone expected of her, and she kept failing them. Not only that, this was something she could never see herself wanting. But that had suddenly changed. She wanted Jaime. Had for a while. And now she was finally getting him, and she was terrified. 

A knock interrupted her. Unbolting the door, Brienne looked into the eyes of the only other living man she trusted. “Father!” She exclaimed, pulling him into an embrace.

“Hello, my little girl,” he murmured into her hair. She wasn’t so little anymore, but he knew she felt it. They both thought that this day would never come. “It’s all right, love. You’re allowed to be scared, I’d be worried if you weren’t.” 

She allowed him in, and they sat side by side on her bed. “I love him, Father. And he loves me. Septa Roelle always told me that no man could ever love me.”

“I never should have let her near you,” cried Selwyn. “Besides, I’m a man, and I love you.”

Brienne smiled. “You’re my father, you’re exempt.” She sighed. “He is a good man, Father.”

“I know, Brienne. He brought my little girl back in one piece,” he took her hand. “Even at his own expense. He’ll be a good husband to you, he loves you just the way you are.”

“I couldn’t ask for better,” she replied. “I’ve nothing to be afraid of, and yet I’m terrified.”

“This is a big change. And something you never thought would happen,” he explained. “You want him, and sometimes getting what we want scares us.”

“But why?”

“Because we second guess whether its what we want.” 

Brienne looked down at her lap. She’d known how she loved Jaime for a while, but she was still afraid of losing him. That she would wake up and this dream would be over. That someone would take him away from her. But that wasn’t going to happen. They would be wed on the morrow, and she would be with him the rest of her days; the way they were meant to be. 

Her father comforted her until she fell asleep. She curled into his side, like she had when she was a little girl. He stroked her hair. His last living child, his heir, would be marrying one of the most important men in Westeros. Not merely as a political union, but because of the affection they shared. They needed each other, and they would be together. And though it was not what anyone expected, they would be happy.


	9. Mother

At the crack of dawn, Brienne was startled awake by Sansa throwing back the drapes covering her window. Brienne ducked her head underneath the covers, hoping for a few more minutes sleep.

“It’s no use, Brienne,” lilted Sansa. “You’re to be married today, and Gods help me, you’re going to look beautiful.”

“Sansa,” Brienne whined. “I’ve never looked beautiful in my life,why should my wedding day be any different?”

Sansa’s laughter lit the chamber. “You’ve always been beautiful. You just didn’t know it yet.” The young queen clapped her hands, and a bevy of maids brought in a tub and buckets upon buckets of hot water. Sansa poured some fine oils into the bath. “Now get in, before I have to strip and scrub you myself.”

Blushing furiously, Brienne rose from the bed to inspect the warm scented water. “I’ll leave you for a moment to get in. But I’ll be returning with the finest soaps in the Seven Kingdoms, along with the dress I had commissioned for you.”

As soon as everyone had left, Brienne removed her shift, and climbed into the hot water. Fortunately, the tub Sansa had brought was big enough that she wouldn’t have to tuck her legs into her chest. She was able to dunk her head underwater and wet her hair before Sansa returned. True to her word, a maid followed with a vast selection of oils, soaps and lotions. 

As the maid neatly placed everything on a nearby table, Sansa rolled up her sleeves and poured the contents of a bottle into her hand. Brienne started: “My lady, you don’t-”

“I want to help, Brienne. And I want to answer any questions you may have about your impending marriage.” Brienne blushed even more deeply as Sansa began to massage the soap into her hair. 

“My lady, I dont think I have any-”

“He loves you, you know. I can see it.” A silence descended upon them. Much as she knew it to be true, Brienne couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it. 

“He’s told me. But… I don’t know how to handle it…” admitted Brienne. “My mother died when I was very young, and she was the only woman my father ever loved. I’ve never really been around people who loved each other…”

“I have. My parents were very much in love. My entire life, I never thought two people could care for each other like that, but I see it in you and Jaime. And if you believe him to be good, I will believe you.” Brienne dunked her head under again, then looked to see the tears glistening in Sansa’s eyes. “I pray you will be as happy as they were.”

“But how?” asked Brienne, simultaneously hoping to distract her former ward and gain some insight into married life.

“I think you start by spending time together. They had barely met when they married. But when father returned from the war, and they settled into their lives together, it grew slowly. You and Jaime have the advantage of already knowing each other. Just enjoy each other. And your love will grow. I suspect he has an idea of how to do that. Trust him. He’s wanted this for a long time.”

Brienne scrubbed some of the ointments into her skin until it was pinker than her blush. “And what of the other aspects of marriage?”

“Other aspects?” asked Sansa. Brienne prayed she would understand; and couldn’t bring herself to meet Sansa’s gaze. “Oh, that,” Sansa laughed again. “Once again, I suspect that he’ll know what to do. Just relax. It might hurt a moment, but it will feel good. Besides, it is an absolute necessity in order to make a child.” Brienne hoped that the heat of the bath hid her blush. “We should get on with the preparations,” Sansa stated.

The maid from before held out a robe, and Brienne wrapped herself in it and sat while the other women combed through her hair. It had gotten longer since the war ended. She hadn’t had time or the inclination to cut it. It hadn’t been inconvenient since she hadn’t been in battle. Brienne hoped that it wouldn’t end up piled atop her head the way some Southron ladies wore their hair, she hated that. But when she looked up from her lap into the mirror, she saw beautiful plaits of white gold hair framing her face. The resulting pinkness in her cheeks almost made her look… pretty.

“See, you are a bit unconventional, but you are beautiful,” said Sansa, applying some color to Brienne’s lips. “Wait until you see your dress.”

Brienne was escorted behind the dressing screen, and was mystified to find a beautiful ivory gown, embellished with sapphires, and deep blue drapings. “Gods-” was all she could get out.

“I chose everything myself, I’ve a fairly good eye for color,” Sansa explained.

Before the younger woman could see her tears, Brienne gathered her into an embrace. Never had someone given her such a special gift. And for the first time in her life, Brienne felt as though she might enjoy wearing a dress. The small cluster of women laced Brienne into the gown, which fit more comfortably than expected. While the skirts and sleeves were long, they were easily manageable, and they were the perfect length for her tall stature.

Brienne was admiring herself in a mirror when there was a rapid knock on the door, which Sansa went to answer. A young man in uniform was greeted her, “I have a gift for the Lady Brienne,” he paused. “From her intended.”

Sansa accepted the package, and brought it to Brienne. “That was very kind of him,” said Brienne as she unwrapped the token from its bindings. “It’s a… belt.”

“I think he means for you to wear it to the wedding,” pondered Sansa. Brienne slung the garment around her hips and buckled it before realizing the belt’s purpose. 

“It’s for Oathkeeper!” she exclaimed. For the first time, she felt truly giddy to be marrying Jaime. She dug through her belongings and found her sword. It wouldn’t feel right to wed him without it.

As she looked at her reflection one last time, Brienne suddenly felt complete. Almost. There was one piece left.


	10. Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I've been going through a job change, and not able to focus on much of anything.
> 
> But here's the latest chapter!

The makeshift sept was swathed in the colors of Brienne’s family sigil. Jaime had never thought the combination beautiful before, but he could have said the same of Brienne. It seemed fitting though. 

He’d never thought to marry. Hells, he didn’t even think he’d survive this long. But to wed Brienne, the person who had dragged him thus far, who had kept him alive, he could imagine nothing better. She was his savior, and he would happily worship her for the rest of his days. 

A wave of quiet descended upon the sept. The eyes that were previously fixated on Jaime turned to view the figures approaching. For all Brienne’s height, her father was even more intimidating. By his side, even she looked small. But his eyes were the same intense sapphire shade as his daughter’s, and that brought Jaime a modicum of comfort.

He allowed his gaze to drift to the young woman approaching with Selwyn Tarth. Jaime had never thought his bride could be this beautiful. One could almost be forgiven for mistaking her for someone else, excepting her height and stunning blue eyes. 

Jaime felt his lips curl into a smile. Gods, she looked so innocent, even with Oathkeeper strapped to her hip. 

Brienne stared at her feet through the entire procession, a blush burning into her cheeks. Upon reaching the Septon, she allowed herself a glance at her future husband. Surprisingly, his gaze was warm and inviting. Selwyn gently turned her to kiss her cheek, and then passed her hand to Jaime.

Jaime’s living hand was warm and firm beneath her clammy one. It brought her some comfort amidst her terror and urged her forward to the Septon. They were both startled upon feeling Selwyn’s strong hands placing a large cloak over them. She felt tears prick behind her eyes at the gesture, and Jaime’s hand tightened around hers. 

The Septon’s words were a blur, as she could only concentrate on the sensation of their joined hands. As the Septon wrapped then untied a ribbon around them, Brienne could feel her palm perspiring against his and wondered if he was nervous as well. He certainly didn’t look it. Turning towards each other, his emerald eyes were confident as he recited the words:

“Father, Warrior, Smith, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” Where his voice was confident, hers was barely audible. She was sure everyone could sense her fear and discomfort as they were commanded to kiss.

Suddenly, her worries slipped away. Nothing else mattered as his flesh hand brushed a strand of hair away, then caressed her cheek. A strange sort of satisfaction radiated from him as he softly pressed his lips to hers. 

His kiss was gentle, damp. It made her knees quake. Brienne silently thanked the Gods that his golden hand was firmly wrapped around her waist or she’d be falling onto the floor. His mouth subtly moved against her. This was not what she was expecting. Arranged marriages were met only with a simple peck, not the building passion expressed by her husband. It was strange to think of him that way. Her  _ husband _ . It dawned on her, and not for the first time, that tonight they would be encouraged to consummate their marriage. But a burning feeling in the pit of her belly told her to push away her fears. 

Roaring applause brought her back to reality. Opening her eyes, he world was consumed by Jaime’s sweet smile. He removed the cloak from their shoulders as they turned around to face their audience. She didn’t feel quite so scared anymore.


	11. Warrior

Their wedding feast was magnificent. It wasn’t so much to celebrate them, but to lighten the people’s spirits after decades of war. The couple were exuberantly welcomed by a slightly drunken crowd. Jaime seemed unfazed, and Brienne was only aware of his hand grasping hers, everything else faded away. Fortunately, she trusted him enough to handle the well-wishers and could focus on the new sensations brought forth by his skin against hers.

Jon and Sansa welcomed them to the high table, which was well-stocked with decadent foods the likes of which they hadn’t seen in years. It was overwhelming, but with Jaime by her side, she knew she didn’t have to worry. He was a man of honor, and would try to shield her from the inevitable discomfort of everyone’s gibes.

Brienne genuinely smiled upon seeing her father approach the table. His big blue eyes shone with happiness and pride, she rose to greet him.

“Congratulations, sweetling,” he said, pulling her into a close embrace. “I wanted to pay my respects to the happy couple before returning to Tarth.”

Brienne’s face sank. How could he leave her just after her wedding?

“Not to worry, I will be preparing Evenfall for its new lord and lady.” With that, he looked to Jaime, and clapped him on the shoulder. “I also wanted to afford the newlyweds some privacy,” he winked and sauntered off, leaving Brienne with a shocked expression.

Jaime let out a chuckle and pulled her closer to speak into her ear. “I think your father approves.” He then kissed her cheek and took his seat once more. Leaning in again, he whispered: “and we’re liable to wake the whole castle tonight.”

Brienne blushed heavily and lowered her eyes. She never thought she’d turn into a demure and bashful bride, but here she was, doing just that.

Though she was irate with Jon for arranging their union, he and Sansa had been nothing but kind otherwise. Now, as the guests were becoming rowdy from their wine, Jon stood before them and silenced the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my wife and I are ecstatic to announce the union of these two warriors. May their marriage and subsequent progeny help to forge peace throughout the realm,” the onlookers all drank to that, as Sansa inched closer to the couple.

“I’ve demanded that there be no bedding ceremony, and Jon is working to create a distraction for you to make a hasty getaway, but you’ll need to run for it soon” she whispered. “If all goes wrong, there’s always Oathkeeper.” Sansa winked, then joined her husband at the head of the table. 

Brienne swallowed hard, then looked to Jaime. How could he look so playful at a time like this? Here she was, attempting to spare herself certain humiliation, and his eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them. 

He held fast to her hand, and she could see Bronn from the corner of her eye, gesturing for them to follow him. Not knowing what else to do, Brienne raised herself as inconspicuously as possible, and escorted her husband to their friend.

“I’m going to get you out of ‘ere,” Bronn drawled. “The Queen has arranged new private chambers for you, and I’m the only one who knows where they are. I’m the only one who’ll be hearing you tonight.” Brienne blushed deeply as Bronn clapped Jaime on the shoulder. “Now come along then, they’ll be calling for a bedding soon, and I’d like to get you out of here so’s I can get paid.”


End file.
